


The Masquerade Escapade

by nyxocity



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Closet Sex, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Drinking Games, First Meetings, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Identity Reveal, M/M, Rimming, Spin the Bottle, Trapped In A Closet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 06:15:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26967316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyxocity/pseuds/nyxocity
Summary: It’s Halloween, Jensen’s favorite holiday, and it's shaping up to be Jensen's best day ever. First, he meets a guy named Jared who looks like a gothic dreamboat with his black eyeliner and black clothes and tattoos, and then, at a masquerade Halloween party later that night, he meets another intriguing, mysterious stranger named Jay. He can't quite get Jared out of his head at first, but pretty soon Jensen’s dying to see Jay's whole face. 2AM is a long time to wait until the masks come off, but Jensen’s pretty sure they can put the time to good use--especially once they get stuck in a closet.
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Comments: 92
Kudos: 312





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is dedicated to Tee 💖

Jensen scuffles his feet along the sidewalk, kicking up leaves in shades of brilliant red to vibrant yellow to dead brown. The sun is going down, late October sunshine slanting brightly between the neighborhood houses, everything cast in gold hues and the beginnings of shadow. Children are filing along the sidewalk in both directions, giggling and chattering, adults tagging along diligently behind them. 

A little girl with blonde hair passes by him, shimmering in her Elsa costume, silver, white and blue glinting in the sun, her mother dressed as Anna following close behind. A rowdy pack of ghosts and werewolves and superheroes approach next, the adults following them not dressed up at all, and Jensen steps forward, taking Tommy by the shoulder so he doesn’t get swept away by the crowd.

Jensen figures Tommy’s mother would probably be a little upset if he lost her son.

He still isn’t one-hundred percent sure how he let himself get roped into this. His next door neighbor, Cathy, has been really nice to him ever since he moved in a month ago, from helping him move some things inside the house to making him a welcome casserole to loaning him her lawn mower. He’d definitely owed her for all of that, but chaperoning her son through trick-or-treating somehow seems an unfair trade. Why couldn’t she just want him to fix her garbage disposal or something normal?

Not that Jensen’s ever fixed a garbage disposal in his life, but he’s seen a lot of that on TV, so it must be a thing people do. At least he could look that up on the internet and figure it out.

“Why do _you_ have to take me trick-or-treating?” Tommy asks for the fifteenth time. His eyes are very blue as he looks up at Jensen, and a wisp of white-blonde hair peeks out through one of the eyeholes in his Captain America mask. He sounds petulant, and whiny, and Jensen can definitely relate.

He decides to try the truth this time.

“Because I accepted too many favors from your mother and now I owe her this,” Jensen replies, sighing long sufferingly.

Tommy blinks at him once, and Jensen can see the confusion in his eyes. He guesses the concept of checks and balances and trading casseroles for trick-or-treating is probably a little beyond the average five year old.

“I don’t want to be here either, kid,” Jensen tells him. “But your mom’s sick, so let’s make the best of it, huh?”

Tommy blinks at him a few more times and then appears to discard Jensen’s existence entirely. Jensen wishes he could do that. It would definitely come in handy sometimes.

They resume walking to the next house, Tommy carrying his Captain America shield in one hand, and in the other, a bright orange, plastic bag with the words “Trick or Treat” emblazoned on it above the goofy black eyes and mouth of a carved pumpkin. Jensen suspects he’ll be carrying that bag very soon; it’s already looking a bit heavy for Tommy’s chubby little arm.

A kindly looking older woman with white hair and a face like a baked apple answers the door at the next house, cooing over how cute Tommy looks in his little superhero costume. She drops candies of unidentifiable origin--round, flat blue and red candies, wrapped in clear plastic--one by one into Tommy’s bag like dead stones. Jensen wonders, not idly, if she’d bought a candy dish at an estate sale and was just using Halloween to get rid of its contents. Surely she hadn’t deliberately gone out and bought those atrocities.

She stands up straight with a bit of effort, peering at Jensen from behind her wire-rimmed glasses. “Such a cute little boy,” she croons at him.

“Okay,” Jensen says, uncertain.

Her white brows draw together in the beginnings of a frown.

“I didn’t make him,” Jensen adds hastily.

The old woman’s frown deepens, lines in her face creasing into a latticework so deep that he’s starting to feel a little afraid.

“He’s not mine.”

Her frown begins to reach critical mass, and Jensen takes Tommy by the shoulder to lead him away. He flashes the woman a smile that he hopes leaves her with the impression that he’s not a kidnapper and hurries Tommy down the walkway toward the main street.

The October breeze meets them at the sidewalk, crisp unmistakable scent of autumn carried with a rising chill as night draws closer. It’s a smell and a sensation that never fails to make Jensen smile, and he supposes he can’t be too grumpy. Fall is his favorite season, and tonight is his favorite holiday. He only has to do this for maybe another hour and then he’s free.

Dark is beginning to settle down on the town, the sun a golden-red, dying light that clings here and there to the sides of houses. 

They shuffle up the sidewalk, passing a group of Disney princesses in an array of pastel blue, pink and yellow, pausing at the walkway leading to the next house. Some of the houses in the neighborhood are extremely, exotically decorated, and Jensen appreciates their efforts. This house is one of those.

Chains of light strings with tiny bulbs of purple, green and orange are twisted intricately through the tree branches that line the walkway. Rubber bats dangle from the branches, strange shapes and fluttering wings in the colored light. A witch's cauldron sits between two of the trees, sickly green light emanating from inside through the fog of dry ice, white smoke pouring over the edges and sinking to the ground, covering most of it in a sheet of thin white mist. The front porch is lined with illuminated, carved pumpkins in all shapes and sizes, some mean and glaring with sharp teeth, others goofy and welcoming with buck teeth and wide, circular eyes. Moans and groans carry eerily on the breeze from an outdoor speaker somewhere, followed by the sound of a creaking door, the wicked laughter of a madman. 

Most impressive is the obviously homemade but well constructed life sized, vampire style, black wooden coffin standing up on the porch, weight leaning against the siding of the house, a silver brocade cross painted on its lid. The lid is slightly open, one rubber, skeletal arm curling around it from inside, as if the skeleton were trying to escape. Red light from the porch bulb falls across it in splashes like blood, glinting off the chains wrapped around its lower half to keep whatever is in there trapped inside.

“Wow,” Tommy breathes in awe of the scene before them, and Jensen couldn’t agree more.

He notices most of the crowds on the street are avoiding this particular house, at least at the moment. It’s an old Victorian, painted a grayish color with dark roofing, triangular pointed roof sticking up on one side. It would be creepy on the average evening, much less dressed up like this on Halloween night. 

He loves it.

Tommy seems to like it, too, no hesitation in him as he starts into the mist. Above them, low wind rustles through the tree branches, stirring the dead and dying leaves that still cling to them, fog roiling around their feet as they make their way to the porch. The board at the top of the stairs creaks as they step upon it, and the sound sends a thrill through Jensen, his heart pumping a little faster.

Tommy never hesitates, marching right up to the door and knocking, and Jensen smiles at his bravery.

The man that answers the door is tall, that’s the first thing Jensen notices. Like really tall, and at 6’1 Jensen’s no slouch in the height department. The guy is also built like a fucking horse; muscular and broad, with a shoulder to waist ratio that isn’t quite dorito status, but is incredibly impressive nonetheless. His hair is longish, curling at the base of his neck, and that’s about all Jensen can make out with the light spilling out of the house behind the guy and the porch light being so dim. 

He sees enough that he’s pretty damned interested in getting a good look at the guy’s face.

“Trick or Treat!” Tommy yells.

“Hey there,” the guy greets, sounding pleasant enough as he bends down, one hand resting against one knee, the other holding a gigantic bowl of candy--filled with the good stuff, Jensen notices; Snickers and Milky Way bites, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups and Hershey’s mini-candy bars. 

Jensen can see that much in the red light of the porch, but he still can’t see the guy’s face, his hair falling forward to hide his features. For a moment, Jensen wishes the man hadn’t gone all out with his decorating and opted for a normal porchlight. 

“Happy Halloween,” the guy says in his deep, warm voice, dropping a handful of candies into Tommy’s bag. His hands are nice, slender and strong looking.

The man straightens and Jensen curses his luck that the guy is standing perfectly in the shadow between the foyer and the porch. 

“And this must be your Dad,” the man remarks, seeming to take stock of Jensen.

Jensen starts to correct him immediately. “I’m--”

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Tommy practically shouts from between them, and Jensen is startled into silence.

The guy chuckles and says, “Well you’re welcome to use my bathroom. If your Dad wants to come inside and wait for you?”

This last is directed at Jensen, and Jensen once again begins to correct him, wondering why Tommy hasn’t done it yet, and then Tommy explodes in another shout.

“Have to go!”

“Sure,” Jensen agrees. It’ll get Tommy to stop shouting, plus, he might actually get to see the guy’s face in the foyer light.

The man moves back and aside, leaving room for both of them to step inside.

It’s just as nicely decorated in the foyer as it was outside, if a bit more warmly decorated, and light falls in bright yellow from the ceiling light of the foyer, illuminating it all clearly. 

The man directs Tommy down the hall to the bathroom, and then he turns to look at Jensen, giving Jensen a full view of him.

He’s as scorching hot as Jensen had imagined, his longish hair an off-black color that frames his wide, angular face, high cheekbones and sharp jaw, slightly slanted hazel eyes and wide mouth. He’s got a silver barbell through one eyebrow and a silver ring through his lower lip on the left-ish side, and the lower lids of his eyes are lined with a stark black that makes the color in his eyes pop. 

He’s also dressed in black, from his tight t-shirt with the words “memento te mortalem esse” printed on it, to his form-fitting long jeans and motorcycle boots. He’s wearing several leather bands on the wrists of each arm, one of them thicker and with small spikes standing out from it, and from there up to where the sleeves of his t-shirt start, his skin is covered in ink. So many tattoos, some in color but mostly black and white with intricate shading. Not enough to quite call them full tattoo sleeves, but getting damned close.

The eyeliner--holy shit, that would be enough to do Jensen in all by itself--is so hot it’s almost sinful, but the total appearance of the man is breathtaking. Jensen’s wordless, just staring.

“I should probably tell you this is just for Halloween,” the man says, gesturing at himself with one huge hand. “But I’d be lying. I look like this everyday.”

“Everyday is Halloween?” Jensen inquires, his brain scrambling for words. 

The guy chuckles, nodding. “You know Ministry?”

“Passingly.” Jensen nods. “I had a goth phase when I was fourteen.”

The guy looks him up and down for a moment, and then softly, he says, “That, I would have liked to see.”

Is that--did this guy just hit on him? Is this real life? Don’t be stupid. Of course he didn’t hit on you. Did he? No. Wait. Yes?

Before Jensen can rally himself from his daze to react, the guy straightens a bit, changing the subject.

“Your son is adorable,” Jared remarks.

“Not mine,” Jensen corrects him, glad to finally have that out of the way. “My neighbor--his mother--got sick with some kind of flu, so I took him out.” Jensen hesitates for a moment, and then gives the guy a slight smile. “I’m childless. And extremely single.”

“Oh,” the man replies, voice soft. There’s a twinkle in his eyes--which are strangely blue around the edges of the iris--and Jensen can’t tell if the guy is amused, being mischievous, flirting with him or some combination of all three.

“I’m Jared,” the guy says, reaching out with one hand.

Jensen slips his hand into Jared’s. Jared’s skin is warm, his grip firm, and Jensen can feel hazy heat dancing over his skin like electricity when they touch. Truth be told, he pumps Jared’s hand a few more times than absolutely necessary, and then forces himself to let go. Jensen realizes then that he hadn’t told the guy his name, and he opens his mouth--

A brief, sharp scream from the bathroom cuts him short, and then they’re both running down the hall to the bathroom.

Tommy’s standing in front of the toilet, his Captain America mask pulled back from his face, white-blonde hair sticking up every which way, tangled like brambles, his blue pants barely tugged up around his waist, his face beet red and tears streaming down his face.

“What’s wrong?” Jensen demands, hurrying to him, worry making his heart pound. 

“T-t-tummy hurts,” Tommy manages, sniffling loudly, and then continues crying. His tiny hands are clasped against the bare strip of his belly skin. The bag of candy is lying sideways on the floor, a few colored candies tumbled out on the tiles, and Jared kneels down, pushing them hurriedly back inside before he rights the bag.

“Did you go to the bathroom?” Jensen asks.

“Couldn’t,” Tommy confesses, miserable, and then he starts crying more loudly, practically howling.

“He must have gotten whatever his mom has,” Jensen surmises, locking eyes with Jared briefly.

“You should get him home.”

Yeah. Jensen really should. But he also really doesn’t want to leave without getting Jared’s number, and now hardly seems like the time to ask.

The doorbell rings in the distance, and Jensen bites back a sigh. “You should go answer that.”

Jared gives Jensen a questioning look. “You got this?”

“Yeah.” Jensen nods, disappointed. “I got it.”

Jared departs to greet the next group of trick-or-treaters, and Jensen’s moment, if there had ever been one, has passed. He sighs and gathers up Tommy’s shield, the orange Trick-or-Treat bag, and looks at Tommy, one hand reaching out to touch the little boy’s shoulder. 

“Can you walk?” Jensen asks, and Tommy crumples to the floor of the bathroom, crying miserably the way only small children can. 

Jensen slips the candy bag onto one wrist, the strap on the back of the Captain America shield following behind, and then he scoops Tommy up off the floor, carrying the little boy to the front door. Tommy’s crying seems to subside once Jensen has the boy in his arms, and he guesses there’s a sort of comfort in being held--or maybe it’s just so weird that it’s startled him into not crying, Jensen isn’t really sure.

The children at the door, dressed in their brightly colored costumes, are staring at him with huge, solemn, nearly frightened eyes, silhouettes of their parents standing behind them. He imagines they’re looking at him in much the same way.

“He’s sick,” Jensen explains, and they seem to relax a little. 

Jared is standing off to one side of the door to let Jensen go by, and Jensen gives him one last, longing look.

“Sorry about this,” Jensen apologizes, and Jared nods.

“Me, too,” Jared says, sounding sincere, his eyes locking on Jensen’s for a moment. Then he looks at Tommy, calling softly, “I hope you feel better, Tommy.”

Tommy begins crying again, and Jensen hurries through the doorway, children scattering to let him through.

*

Cathy doesn’t seem thrilled by the news that Tommy is sick, too, but at least she seems to rally and be able to take care of him, which makes Jensen feel less guilty about leaving.

He turns and takes a few short steps from the porch, hands shoved into his pockets and head down against the night breeze, which has turned quite chilly, when Jared returns to the forefront of his mind. Jared had never really left Jensen’s mind, but Jensen had put him on the back burner to simmer while he dealt with the Tommy situation. 

Well, he thinks as he walks the short distance from Cathy’s house back to his own, at least he knows where Jared lives. Maybe tomorrow he’ll go by there, knock on the door and say hello. It’s a nice thought, one that brings a smile to his face as he reaches his front door. But he wonders if he’ll have the nerve to follow through. They’d only met for a few minutes at most. Would it be weird if he dropped by to get to know Jared better? Maybe invited him down to The Big Dripper coffee shop?

No, he decides after a moment, still standing in front of his front door, key in his hand, frozen halfway to the lock as he ponders. It wouldn’t be weird at all. The thought of it still makes him anxious and fluttery inside, though.

Hands grab him by the shoulders from behind, startling him so badly he lets out a yell as he spins around.

“Boo,” Danneel says with a shit-eating grin. She’s standing there, hands on her hips and looking entirely too pleased with herself for scaring him. She’s dressed in black jeans and a long sleeved orange shirt with the words “Good Witch” printed on it in scrolled lettering, and Jensen is still registering this fact as his flight response chills out a bit.

“That shirt is a lie,” he tells her, unequivocally. 

“Yeah baby,” she agrees with a grin and a tilt of her head, curly red hair falling back over one shoulder. “I’m evil incarnate.”

“You are.” Jensen nods, his heart beginning to slow down.

“Are we gonna stand out here all night or what?” she demands.

Jensen shifts his weight, tucking his key into his pocket, and tips one of his shoulders backward as he pretends to ponder. “I was thinking about it.”

Danneel rolls her eyes at him and reaches into his jeans pocket with no regard for what she’s grabbing as she digs around for his keys. She grabs them and then grabs him by the front of his shirt, spinning him around. “Come on, bella,” she says as she unlocks the door. “We’ve got a party to get ready for.”

“

Jensen’s known Danneel since high school, when they’d been part of Drama Club together. They’d dated for a couple of months, Jensen still not entirely realizing he was gay just yet, and once he had, they’d remained friends afterward. When he and Mike had broken up a few months ago, he’d found himself at a crossroads. He’d never really liked New York City much, only moving there because it was where Mike, with his big Broadway dreams, had wanted to live. Danneel had invited him upstate to Geneva to come stay with her. 

She’d helped him get a job at the Geneva Theatre Guild doing lighting and rigging for the shows there. Danneel works there as a makeup artist along with her friend Genevieve, who is in charge of the wardrobe department --such as it is. After about a month, he’d found this place, which is a pretty good-sized house for one person, with fairly cheap rent, and best of all, only about a block over from Danneel’s place. 

He loves the slower pace of life up here, and the people are much nicer than in the city. It reminds him a little of where he and Danneel grew up together. 

Of course, being so deeply involved with the Theatre, and close friends with the person in charge of wardrobe, means there’s no excuse for playing around when it comes to their Halloween costumes. They already have all the costume pieces they need, and between that and Danny’s amazing make-up skills, they’re both sure to turn out looking like they’re ready to go onstage at a show.

She does his makeup and hair first, then disappears to do her own while Jensen fusses over the details of his costume. Jensen finishes up and makes his way to the living room, popping in a DVD of Lon Cheney’s ‘The Wolf Man’ to watch while he waits--sitting very carefully on the couch so as not to wrinkle the lines of his costume. 

Danneel reappears about an hour after she disappeared, stepping into the living room and presenting herself with a flourish.

Metallic snakes weave in and out of her red hair; iridescent coils that shiver with her every move like tiny nerve endings, their emerald and violet hues in perfect complement to her metallic green sheath dress. Tiny emerald rhinestones ring mischievous brown eyes, just visible behind the thin, emerald sequin mask she’s wearing. Her dress is so low cut in the front that Jensen can almost see the bottom swells of her breasts. He guesses if that sort of thing did it for him, he’d be tripping over his tongue right now. 

“You look super hot,” he tells her in all honesty.

“Thanks, bella,” she answers him with a sweet smile.

She’s called him ‘bella’ ever since high school, after his love for Bela Lugosi and old horror movies in general, and because of--in her own words--”his incomparable beauty”. It’s an affectionate, double pun she finds way too amusing in Jensen’s opinion, but he endures it with a grin, because he loves Danny, and he IS a huge Bela Lugosi fan, so it’s not all bad.

He is, in fact, dressed as his nickname-sake tonight. He’d opted for the classic black and white look, from the white shirt with a white silk tuxedo jacket and white bow-tie, black cloak with its white silk interior and pointed collar that stands straight up around his neck, finished off by the crisp, pressed black suit pants and patent black leather shoes. His hair is swept back, almost slicked into place, and darkened to an almost black color. He doesn’t have a widow’s peak naturally, but Danny had managed to manufacture a small one with her makeup skills. He’d even gone for the black and white makeup look, his face pale white, eyebrows pencilled thick and black, lips a dark shade of gray, the entire effect coming together to make him look as if he’d just stepped out of the black and white movie. 

His biggest change to the costume had been Danneel’s suggestion: a splash of color in the form of red contacts for his eyes, because “it’s striking, and _hot_ , Jensen”. After putting them in and looking himself over, he'd had to agree. His other change had been one of submission to the rules of the party they’re attending: it’s a masquerade ball, therefore masks are required. Genevieve had managed to find a nice black satin mask in the shape of a bat somewhere in the depths of the wardrobe cabinets, and Jensen thought if he had to wear a mask, he couldn’t have asked for a more perfect one.

“You ready?” Danneel asks, gathering up her own thick, velvet green cloak and a sequin clutch.

He rises from the couch and turns off the TV. He takes a moment to carefully situate his fake vampire teeth--high quality plastic with gray gums--before he offers her his arm. “Madame,” he says with a slight bow, and she takes him by the arm with a warm smile.

*

They arrive around 9PM, parking along a street thronged with cars on either side, and Jensen can hear the music long before they reach the house, which is fairly large and rather nice, built of brown brick.

Inside, the house is absolutely mobbed with people, packed wall to wall, draped across couches and counters, squeezed into corners, dressed in a rainbow of colors and textures. Laughing, talking, squealing, sweating, dancing people everywhere, and Jensen feels overwhelmed for a moment by the sheer noise and the heat of bodies pressed close together. 

“Whose party did you say this was again?” Jensen asks, practically having to yell to be heard over the music--Thriller, being played at tooth-rattling volume.

“Chad’s,” Danneel yells back, her breath hitting him with a wet, hot puff. A metallic green snake shivers, brushing against one of her cheeks.

Chad. Jensen only knows Chad vaguely. He’s one of the crew who helps build sets onstage, and Jensen has a vague image of an attractive blond guy with a foul mouth shouting orders at people. He’s never actually met the guy, but apparently Danny knows him well enough to be invited.

Though he supposes everyone associated with the Theatre might be here tonight. It’s clear this crowd is mostly theater people in some form or another, because the quality of costumes is through the roof. Jensen doesn’t recognize any of them, but then, they’re all wearing tons of makeup and hidden behind masks, not to mention the hats and wigs that help obscure identifying features. Also, the lighting is generally dark, colored bulbs and black lights providing most of what little light there is.

Genevieve bursts through the crowd, squealing as she embraces Danneel, and Jensen only recognizes her because he’s spent a lot of time around her. She pulls back from Danneel and gives Jensen an admiring look up and down.

“You look fantastic,” she says.

Genevieve is dressed as Cleopatra ala Liz Taylor, resplendent in glittering gold jewelry and a golden mask in the shape of an Egyptian style hawk. She smells like Egyptian musk, which Jensen thinks is a nice touch, the dark, sweet smell filling his nose as she grabs him in a hug. She draws back and takes them both by the hand, pulling them in the direction of a much more brightly lit room, which turns out to be the kitchen.

The counters are covered in red Solo cups and an amazing array of liquor bottles in a myriad of colors. At the center of the kitchen is a keg of beer in a tub of ice, around which a large crowd of people are gathered.

“Chad,” Genevieve calls out, and one of the men gathered around the keg peels off from the group, catching Danneel up in a hug.

He’s wearing a simple black mask, but he’s one of the only people not dressed in an elaborate costume. For a moment, Jensen thinks he’s not dressed in costume at all, and then he realizes Chad’s dressed as Eminem from the early 00’s. 

MC Hammer’s Addam’s Family thumps from the speakers in the kitchen as Chad pulls back and gives Jensen a once over. “I know you?” Chad asks, squinting at Jensen. 

It’s then that Jensen realizes Chad is incredibly drunk. So incredibly drunk that Jensen’s amazed the man is standing upright.

“I’m here with Danneel,” Jensen says, pointing in Danny’s general direction.

“Oh.” Chad’s face works for a moment, as if trying to find the right expression before he finally smiles. “Welcome to the party, bro.”

“It’s… really something,” Jensen says, nodding.

“Right? And I mean, how often does Halloween happen on a Saturday?” Chad asks with upturned hands.

“Every six years,” Jensen replies, automatically.

Chad pushes his hand in Jensen’s direction, index finger almost hitting Jensen’s nose as Chad attempts to point at him, whole body swaying back and forth. “Nobody likes a smartass.”

Jensen blinks, mystified. “It’s math.”

“Don’t be that guy,” Chad tells him with sudden, abject empathy. He tries to grip Jensen by the shoulder, attempting it four times before he finally manages to grab hold of the material of Jensen’s costume. “Nobody likes _that_ guy.” This last confided as if a great secret. 

“Okay?” Chad asks, suddenly cheerful again, his hand slapping Jensen’s shoulder several times, and Jensen decides it’s probably best if he just agrees.

“Okay.”

Chad seems mollified by Jensen’s answer, giving him a ridiculously wide, drunken smile, and then someone calls Chad’s name from over by the keg.

Danny pushes a drink into Jensen’s hand, taking a sip from her own, and the last Jensen sees of Chad before the crowd closes in front of them is two guys lifting Chad to do a keg stand.

*

The food spread in the dining room is awe inspiring, huge table filled with every kind of Halloween food and dessert imaginable. He’s lost track of Danny, wandering through the crowd into the living room as he looks for her, nibbling on the almond fingernail of a witches finger as he goes. Everyone is dressed to the nines and Jensen is impressed, stopping now and then to marvel at this costume or that.

And then Jensen stops dead as the crowd parts for a moment, revealing the most amazing costume he’s seen yet.

The guy is really tall--though Jensen suspects he’s wearing lifts in his shoes--and dressed as classic Boris Karloff Frankenstein’s monster, right down to the finest detail. His square head piece makes him look even taller, adding a few inches to his already impressive height, and it’s so well blended to his skin that it looks like part of his head. 

His costume and makeup choices mirror Jensen’s in the sense that he’d decided to go full on black and white, as if he’d come to life from the film itself. Of course, the full effect is marred by the back mask the guy has to wear, and damn, Jensen can’t make out all his features from here, but the guy looks hot as hell, judging by the angle of his jawline and the shape of his makeup blackened lips.

Looking at the guy in all his gloriously tall hotness, Jensen feels a momentary pang of disappointment over Jared. He really wishes he’d gotten to talk to Jared more. But, he thinks, pulling himself up by his mental bootstraps, tomorrow is another day. For tonight, he absolutely has to talk to this guy who obviously loves classic horror movies as much as Jensen does.

He threads his way through the crowd, brushing up against a man in an impressive Carmen Miranda costume, massive headpiece dripping with fake fruit, several grapes brushing against Jensen’s nose as he passes. The crowd breaks up a bit after that, leaving patches of open space here and there, and Jensen darts through them, trying to reach the guy.

The guy is talking to someone, his broad back turned to Jensen, and Jensen draws up alongside him, touching his shoulder to get his attention.

“Hey,” Jensen half shouts over the music as the guy turns toward him.

The guy’s makeup is fantastically accurate, right down to the eyelids that hang over his eyes, partially obscuring them. Despite that, Jensen can see the guys’ eyes go wide beneath his drooping eyelids, giving Jensen a long look up and down.

“Wow,” the guy says--at least, Jensen’s pretty sure that’s what he says, based on the way his sensual lips move.

“Hey,” the guy Frankenstein’s monster had been talking to shouts. He’s dressed as Superman, with dark hair and blue eyes, and his muscles are clearly one hundred percent authentic. “I’ll catch you later, Jay,” Superman continues, clapping Frankenstein’s monster on the back.

Superman is swallowed by the crowd, leaving the two of them standing, facing each other. 

“Hey, Jay,” Jensen shouts, sticking out his hand. “I’m Jensen.”

“Hi Jensen,” Jay shouts back, taking Jensen’s hand. Jensen is wearing white gloves, because taking time to make up his hands would have been worthless, considering they were going to a party where he’d be touching all sorts of things. Of course, he hadn’t figured on ‘all sorts of things’ including this guy.

Even through the soft silk of his gloves, he can feel the heat of Jay’s hand, the way the palm of his hand tingles, low electricity dancing over his nerves. It’s sudden, and shocking, and it reminds Jensen a little of what he’d felt when he’d shaken Jared’s hand earlier.

Jay seems to feel it, too, because he doesn’t let go of Jensen’s hand once he stops shaking it, leaning close and asking, “You wanna go somewhere a little more quiet so we can talk?”

The words are half-shouted, close enough to Jensen’s ear that he winces a little.

He draws back, looking at the handsome face beneath the makeup, those deep dark eyes and their drooping lids, and nods.

“Come on,” Jay says, his voice dropping a few notches, still close enough for Jensen to hear, and he can feel Jay's breath against his cheek. “I know a place.”

Jay tightens his grip on Jensen’s hand, and Jensen lets himself be led through the crowd, thinking vaguely again of Jared. 

  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK at the amazing art Dani made for me! 😲🤯😍 THEY ARE SO PERFECT!

It’s chilly on the back porch, cold October breeze rustling through the leaves of the tree branches that arch gracefully over its length. There are small bursts of people scattered about the huge porch, most of them smoking, and Jensen has a moment of surreality, watching the scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz movie take a drag off a cigarette.

There’s no music out here, and though the conversations outside are still loud, alcohol increasing everyone’s volume levels, they’re far enough away that Jensen can hear Jay as he speaks.

“That’s better.”

Jay’s gait is nothing like Frankenstein’s monster as he walks, smooth, easy liquid grace in his long, tall bones. He still hasn’t let go of Jensen’s hand, and as they approach the bannister at the edge of the porch, it seems for a moment that he won’t. He turns sideways, pulling Jensen in front of him until Jensen leans his hip against the railing, and then, rather reluctantly Jensen thinks, he releases Jensen’s hand.

“So you went full on original Bela Lugosi, huh?” Jay asks, looking him up and down again.

Jensen feels warmth swell in his chest at Jay’s understanding and knowledge, different parts of him responding to the tone of Jay’s approval. “You’re a fan,” he says, and then laughs, gesturing at Jay. “Well, obviously a fan of old horror movies. I mean, look at you. That make up is _amazing_.”

“I had help,” Jay admits.

“Me, too,” Jensen says.

“You look incredible. But the red contacts, wow. That’s… I mean it’s so…” Jay trails off, huge hands gesturing as he attempts to articulate.

“Hot?” Jensen asks with the flash of a grin.

“Well… _yeah_ ,” Jay agrees in a tone that equals ‘duh’. “I mean, I’m pretty sure anything would look hot on you. But that’s inspired.”

It’s so forthright, said so matter of factly, as if Jensen’s hotness were just a given fact, that for a moment, Jensen doesn’t know how to respond. He’d have to be pretty dense not to know he’s attractive--he knows people think he is--it’s just that people don’t usually come out and say it within the first five minutes of meeting him. 

And well, he can do this. It’s been a while, and he’s a little rusty, but he used to be good at flirting.

“Well, I never knew Frankenstein’s monster could be so sexy,” Jensen responds in kind.

Jay huffs out a laugh and glances downward toward his feet, almost like he’s embarrassed.

“Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it,” Jensen says, almost confiding the words, and winks at Jay. 

“Wow,” Jay says, staring directly into Jensen’s eyes and shaking his head with a kind of wonder. “Where the hell did you even come from?”

And well, Jensen wouldn’t, if he wasn’t among theater people, but he is, so...

“Transylvania.” Jensen speaks the word in a Hungarian accent, fingers closing on the outside edge of his cape. He pulls it around himself with a dramatic flourish, drawing on his acting skills to give it the right theatrical touch, and then gives Jay a big, vampire fanged grin.

Jay laughs, full barrel chested, throaty laughter, and it’s a beautiful sound. “You’re an actor?”

Jensen lets go of his cape and gives a light shrug. “Used to be. Until I gave it all up for a glamorous life of rigging and lighting.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. Productions would never happen with you guys,” Jay says. “You’re pretty good, though. You ever think about giving up the glamorous life for the spotlight?”

“Sometimes.” Jensen shrugs, vaguely uncomfortable. He used to live for the spotlight, and he was good, too. But being with Mike, he’d had to… well, he’d had to put it aside, hadn’t he? Mike had decent talent, but he’d never be Broadway material, no matter how much he wanted it and worked for it. Jensen though… Jensen could have had a shot. And they’d both known it. It had been the source of many bitter arguments.

“What about you?” Jensen asks, diverting the subject back to Jay. “You an actor?”

“Sometimes,” Jay answers, shrugging like Jensen had a moment before. “Mostly I build set pieces, paint backdrops.” Jay shifts his shoulders inside his raggedy Frankenstein’s monster shirt. “But honestly, I didn’t bring you out here to talk about what we do for a living.”

Jensen steeples his fingers together and taps the tips against each other. “Then what _did_ you bring me out here for?” he asks, raising his brows. 

Jay huffs out another quiet laugh. “Well for the obvious reason.” 

He pauses, and Jensen sways his head back and forth, brows raised in question, waiting.

“Universal or Hammer Films?” Jay asks.

Jensen feels warmth burst inside his chest, because _yes_ , these are the important questions. This one’s a trick question though.

“Both,” he replies. “That’s like asking me to choose between my children--not that I have any, but I’m _guessing_ that’s what it’s like. Universal got to the classic monsters first,” he says, gesturing at himself and Jay, indicating their costumes. “Hell, Universal _made_ them classic. And Hammer came later and made a different kind of horror, gorier and scarier. They got to the classics, too, and I mean, Christopher Lee--come on.”

“Okay, so you know your history,” Jay nods, sounding impressed.

“You’re testing me?” Jensen asks, feeling stunned. Never, in the history of ever, has anyone challenged him to a horror genre trivia contest, but if they had, he would have won.

“Just curious,” Jay says with an open shrug, his tone easy. “I’m a huge fan. I was just wondering if you were as big a geek as me.”

“Bigger, probably.” The corner of Jensen’s mouth curls with a bit of regret for how big of a horror geek he is. He knows it’s not everyone’s passion, and he often has to hold back talking about it. But this guy… this guy seems to want to hear all about it.

Still, Jensen has to try and save the guy from what’s undoubtedly going to be a soliloquy devoted to the love of horror. “I’d tell you all about it, but Slim Shady told me earlier not to be _that_ guy.”

“Slim Shady?” Jay asks, and then he laughs--a wonderfully deep, full, delighted sound. “You mean Chad?”

“You know him?” Jensen asks, and then thinks that’s a dumb question, because it is Chad’s party, after all.

“He’s my best friend,” Jay says with a nod. “He’s kind of an acquired taste.” Jay shakes his head slightly. “But nevermind about him. You were gonna tell me about your love of horror.”

Well, he asked for it.

“I’ve always loved horror,” Jensen says, wondering where to begin. No one’s ever really wanted to hear about it before. “I read incessantly as a kid, everything horror related. For a fourth grade project we had to create a film strip--just drawings on a clear plastic film strip that would cycle through a machine--and I did mine on the origins of Halloween. In sixth grade, I did my big project report on mummies. King Tut, the whole art and process of mummification itself. Both of those got me some weird looks.” Jensen pauses, chuckling, then adds, “But vampires have always been my favorite.”

“Varney the Vampire?” Jay asks with a sly smile, like he’s just asked something particularly meaningful.

“Oh my god, yes!” Jensen exclaims, quick thrill running through him. “You know Varney the Vampire?”

“Poor Varney,” Jay sighs with a regretful shake of his head.

“How about Carmilla?” Jensen asks, excited now.

”I know Carmilla, too.” Jay nods. “The story of Vlad Tepes, and of course, The Vampyre--with a Y.”

Jensen is about to lose his whole goddamned mind. “John Polidori? You know fucking John Polidori?”

Jay breaks into a cheerful laugh, and his teeth are way too straight and white to be Frankenstein’s monster’s teeth, but Jensen doesn’t really care about the lack of authenticity, because holy shit. This guy knows John Polidori’s The Vampyre. Jensen’s practically vibrating, he’s so excited.

“Okay.” Jensen takes a deep breath and tries to contain himself. “Christabel,” he says, like it’s the final round of Jeopardy, watching Jay’s heavily made-up face carefully.

“You mean the poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge?” Jay asks, casual--way too casual, and grinning around the edges. 

Jensen clutches his hands into fists of joy. For the first time ever, he’s a geek in the physical company of a fellow geek who’s in as deep as he is. A really fucking _hot_ fellow geek, who also seems as interested in him as he is in them. He’s overcome by the sudden, wild urge to kiss Jay in the midst of his joy, and takes a deep breath to calm himself a little. 

“Okay, it’s only been like fifteen minutes-- _maybe_. You have got to stop being so awesome,” Jensen tells him.

“What?” Jay sounds surprised, cocking his head to one side and grinning. “Why the hell would I do that?”

“Because if you don’t I’m gonna--” Jensen breaks off, unsure how he means to finish that sentence. I’m gonna lose my mind? I’m gonna jump your bones? I’m gonna fall in love with you? All of the above, maybe?

“You’re gonna what?” Jay asks, leaning in close to Jensen. His voice is soft, teasing, almost sultry, and if Jensen moved just another couple of inches, he could be kissing him right now.

Chad bursts through the door onto the deck, then, shouting, “Jay, I need you!” 

The sound of thumping music booms out from behind Chad’s form, loud conversations and laughter and the inevitability of reality. Jensen can feel the moment shatter, breaking into so many millions of fragments of glass, glittering on the air between him and Jay like diamonds.

There’s a moment that passes between them, eyes locking and holding for fractions of a second, shared regret for the lost moment of intimacy, and then they both turn their attention fully to Chad.

Chad is less dressed than the last time Jensen had seen him, dark hoodie and baseball cap long discarded, stripped down to his white wife beater, which is stained so violently red with some kind of alcoholic drink that it almost looks blood spattered. The gold chain around his neck is swooped up and around, weight of it hanging down his back, blond hair sticking up in wild spikes, his plain black mask tilted at a crazy angle across his face. 

“You okay?” Jay asks, taking a step in Chad’s direction.

“Think…” Chad pauses, face scrunching as he thinks, apparently quite hard. “I’m gonna be sick,” he finally decides.

Jay casts a look at Jensen, and Jensen tilts his head in understanding. Chad is Jay’s best friend, after all.

“I’ll find you later,” Jay promises. And then he reaches out, catching Jensen’s hand and squeezing.

His touch is warm and electric, fireflies dancing along Jensen’s nerves, blinking up and down the length in time with his heartbeat.

“Okay.” Jensen nods, squeezing back.

Jay lets go of him, and Jensen imagines he lets go with the same reluctance he’d let go earlier. 

Jensen watches him go with regret, and thinks this is twice today he’s met an awesome, hot guy, and twice today he’s had an awesome, hot guy ripped away from him by a sick person. 

He knows luck is fickle, but damn. 

The door closes behind Chad and Jay, and Jensen stands there, looking down at his empty red cup, his mind full of Jay, all that vitality behind his Frankenstein’s monster costume. He knows horror like Jensen does, knows _vampire_ s like Jensen does, and that’s amazing, that’s unheard of. He should be consumed with giddiness and fixated on Jay, and he is, mostly, but...

Some deep part of him is still thinking about Jared. He doesn’t know why, doesn’t understand it in the slightest, because Jay should be enough to drown Jared out entirely. But the image of that beautiful, kind, gothic man with his smoking hot piercings and tattoos and black eyeliner won’t leave him.

He shakes the last tiny ice cubes in his cup a few times and decides it doesn’t really matter. He’s not hanging out with either of them right now. 

He can cry about it later. Right now, he should get another drink.

*

Inside the house, the man formerly known as the Fresh Prince is rapping about a nightmare on his street, and Jensen ponders why the majority of Halloween themed songs are so corny--and why he enjoys them all so damned much despite their inherent campiness.

He finds Danny along the edge of the food table, metallic snakes dancing around her face as she laughs at some comment Luke Skywalker is making. She’s standing next to some tall shot glasses that have distinct yellow, orange and white layers of what Jensen presumes is alcohol and gelatin. His presumption proves true when Danneel shoos Luke Skywalker away to make room for Jensen and hands him one. 

“Candy corn shots,” she yells above the Fresh Prince screaming DJ Jazzy Jeff’s name, and she knocks her plastic shot glass against his.

If he didn’t have to use his tongue to coax it out of the glass he wouldn’t believe it was gelatin at all. Jensen’s ninety-eight percent sure it’s made of twenty percent pure sugar and seventy percent vanilla vodka, and he’s completely positive it’s one-hundred percent evil because it tastes delicious. Danneel hands him another one and takes another for herself, and Jensen considers the shot glass for a moment before he shrugs and sends up a silent note of resignation to the violent hangover he’s going to have tomorrow.

Five shots later--god they go down smooth--Danny finally drags him away from the table. He yanks backward in her grip a little, fingers nimbly snagging one last shot glass from the edge of the tray before she pulls him along.

It’s quieter as they go down the back hallway of the house, passing through hanging strands of fake black spiderwebs filled with fake spiders and snakes in fluorescent shades of orange, yellow and green. The normal light bulbs have been replaced with black light bulbs, and the spiders and snakes glow eerily in the light. 

There’s a line of people along one wall, waiting for--Jensen guesses--the bathroom. He guesses he’s now waiting in line for the bathroom, too, because that’s where Danny stops, taking a place at the end of the line.

“So who was that guy I saw you disappear with earlier?” She hardly has to raise her voice for Jensen to hear her, though he can still hear the Monster Mash playing in the distance.

“I just met him,” Jensen says, trying to sound casual. “He’s pretty awesome, though. He seems like he knows as much about horror as I do.”

Danneel looks impressed, her carefully shaped brows rising above the line of her mask. “Tall, handsome, dressed like classic Frankenstein’s monster, keeps up with you in a horror history conversation. Jensen, he could have been made specifically for you.”

“I know, right?” Jensen gives a sigh that’s half happy, half wistful.

“Why’d you let him out of your sight?”

Jensen glances around, catching sight of the open door across from them. “He had to go help... a friend.” Jensen trails off, seeing Chad inside the room. It’s much better lit inside the room than it is in the hall, and Jensen can see him clearly.

Chad looks remarkably recovered from his sickness earlier. He’s vibrant and practically glowing, his cheeks pink with imbibed alcohol, and he’s lost his shirt entirely at this point, skin stained red and blotchy by whatever he’d spilled on himself earlier in the night. He’s lean but well muscled, and taken out of context, not entirely unattractive. 

“Hang on a second, Danny.” 

Jensen walks across the hall into the room. It appears to be a kind of office, a desk with a laptop on it set off to one side, and then Jensen registers the large TV set against the other wall which has three different gaming systems plugged into it. A game room, then. Chad’s standing there with a controller in his hand, swaying lightly from side to side. Jensen looks around the room again, but he doesn’t see Jay anywhere, or anyone else, for that matter.

“Looks like getting sick agreed with you,” Jensen remarks.

Chad nods sagely. “The Greeks had it right with that vomiting shit.”

Jensen considers for a moment. “That was the Romans.”

“Huh.” Chad nods appreciatively. “The fuckin Romans.”

Jensen nods. “They did a lot of that, too.”

Chad frowns, face squinching as if he’s trying to recall something difficult. “Didn’t the Greeks have the orgies?”

“The Greeks had tragedies and philosophers. The Romans had vomitoriums and orgies.”

Chad’s expression is caught somewhere between stumped and amazed. “So they just fucked and puked all the goddamned time?”

“Sometimes they killed people, too,” Jensen offers after a moment. “And there was that whole thing where they conquered a bunch of other countries.”

Chad makes a grunting sound. “So they were like, a big deal?”

Jensen frowns. “Where exactly were you during history class?”

“Probably getting laid.” Chad punches a button on the controller and a movie starts playing silently on the screen. “I wasn’t having orgies, though,” Chad laments, seeming sad.

Jensen isn‘t sure how to respond to that, so he decides to get to the point. “Have you seen Jay?” 

Chad cranes his neck to look at Jensen, his expression one of intrigued suspicion, and Jensen’s not sure that’s an expression he’s ever seen before this very moment. “What do you want with Jay?”

“Nothing,” Jensen says, way too quickly and breezily, and even with the shots starting to set in, he can hear how much the word sounds like a lie. 

“Mmmhmm,” Chad hums, beginning to turn his whole body to face Jensen.

Chad looks like he’s about to give his complete attention to Jensen, and that’s more interested in Jensen than Jensen wants Chad to be.

“Okay, thanks.” Jensen lifts a hand in a half wave and turns, heading for the door in a hurry.

“Hey, dead boy. Hold up.”

Jensen stops, not wanting to turn around. If he turns around he’s going to get stuck here.

“Is this some gay, Vampire Lestat shit?” Chad asks.

Jensen closes his eyes and takes a breath. If Chad weren’t Jay’s best friend, Jensen might think Chad was taking a shot at Jensen for being gay. But he _is_ Jay’s best friend, and Jay seems to be interested in men, so apparently Chad just has the manners and tact of the common ape. Anyway, he’s far more outraged about Chad’s misconception of his costume. 

“I’m Dracula,” Jensen says, turning toward Chad and gesturing at his costume. “How do you not know this is Dracula?”

“Whatever.” Chad makes a dismissive motion with the hand holding the controller. “You trying to bang Jay?”

Actually, categorizing Chad’s manners as ape-like might have been giving him too much credit. Jensen really wishes he’d just left, or that the floor would open up and swallow him right now. “I just met him.”

“So?” Chad blinks drunkenly at him, unimpressed. “I asked if you were trying to bang him,” Chad repeats, like Jensen might be slow.

“I…” Jensen has half a dozen things he wants to say. Like he isn’t the kind of guy who bangs people after knowing them for fifteen minutes, first and foremost. Which is generally true, but he’s had six candy corn shots and Jay is pretty amazing and--

“Jensen?” Danny calls from behind him. “The line is moving. What the hell are you doing in here?”

“Oh thank god.” Jensen breathes the words like a sigh of relief as he spins around to face Danneel, his body listing hard to the right before he regains his balance.

“Bye,” Jensen calls over his shoulder.

Back in the relative safety of the spider-web filled hallway, Jensen takes a breath and relaxes a bit.

“What was that about?” Danny asks.

“Oh, I was just…” Jensen takes a moment to collect himself. “I was seeing if he knew where tall and handsome went.”

“I’m sure he’ll turn up. He’s kind of hard to miss.”

Jensen nods, giving a glance up and down the hall just in case. 

After they’ve both used the bathroom, Jensen rejoins Danny in the hall. She’s leaning against the open doorway to the game room, which appears to have gained a decent group of people, all of them kneeling or sitting on the floor in a loose circle. It takes a second to figure out what they’re doing, and then it clicks.

“Ugh,” Jensen grunts.

“What?”

“They’re playing spin the bottle,” he tells Danny, hopelessly. “Teenage games? At an adult party? I mean...” He trails off as he glances over at the circle of people again, noticing one very tall, very Boris Karloff as Frankenstein’s monster person sitting at the far edge of the circle. 

Danneel cranes her neck around, getting a good look at the scene in the room, and then she looks back to Jensen, who’s barely aware of anything besides Jay’s presence.

“What do you mean?” Danneel prompts, poking him in the stomach to get his attention.

He jolts at her touch, faltering for a moment before he looks at her. “Um. I meant… I um…”

“You meant you want to join them?” she asks with an encouraging nod, iridescent snakes bobbing.

“I…” his eyes stray to Jay again before he sighs, nodding. “I really do.”

“Then get in there, bella.”

“You’re not coming with me?” Jensen asks, startled.

“Nah. No one in there I’m interested in kissing.” She walks around behind Jensen and begins pushing him in the direction of the room. “But you get in there. I’ll catch up with you later. Genevieve wanted to talk to me about something anyway.”

Jensen edges up to the circle, tentative, and a blonde girl dressed like a mermaid scoots over to give him room to sit, her iridescent tail gleaming green and aqua blue as she tucks it around her body. For a moment, everyone’s eyes are on him, but he only has eyes for one very gray Frankenstein’s monster, who greets him with a wide smile, white teeth stark against his black-lined lips.

The bottle goes round a few times before a woman lands the bottle on Jensen. Jensen doesn’t really understand her costume; she’s wearing red sequin devil horns and a tail, and devil’s make-up, but she’s wearing a blue sequin dress, her tail poking out through a cut in the seam of the dress, Jensen thinks, based on its positioning. She’s also wearing red heels. He doesn’t have time to ponder, though, because she’s leaning across the space in the center of the circle, a nervous little smile on her lips.

Her lips are glossy red and taste faintly of cinnamon, soft and sweet as they press against his, and she’s not a guy, but Jensen really doesn’t mind as he squeezes her shoulder, returning her close-mouthed kiss. She sits back and looks at him with warm, brown eyes for a moment, and then it’s his turn.

He notices the label on the wine bottle as he reaches down to spin it, and and damn, it was an expensive vintage. He hopes whoever drank it appreciated it.

He tries to gauge the distance between him and Jay, putting hope behind his spin, breath caught in his lungs as it slows, slender neck turning, turning…

Jensen watches as it stops, eyelids fluttering as he sends up a silent prayer, and then he looks up.

Chad’s staring back at him, looking as disappointed as Jensen feels. 

Jensen’s disappointment must be written on his face, because Chad says, “Yeah, I’m not thrilled either, Count Chocula. But anything above the waist isn’t gay, so fuck it.”

Chad grabs him with one arm around the neck and pulls him in, their lips meeting in a sudden, quick crush, and Jensen has a second to hope Chad brushed his teeth after he threw up. A second after that, it’s over, and Chad releases Jensen, sitting back and looking down at the bottle.

Jensen resists the urge to wipe his lips. It hadn’t been terrible, but… his eyes drift over to Jay to find Jay staring back at him. 

“Okay, new game! Seven minutes in heaven,” Chad calls out. “Who’s in?”

“I’ll play,” Jay says.

“And in an unprecedented move, Jay is going back into the closet!” Chad yells to the room at large.

Well, if Jensen had needed any further confirmation that Jay was gay, he guesses he just got it.

“Okay, so guys toss your phones in this hat,” Chad motions to the one he’d been wearing earlier. “And girls in this one.” Chad reaches up and grabs a red baseball cap off the desk. “Then you close your eyes, reach into the hat, and whoever’s phone you grab is who you go in with.”

Jay tosses his phone into the black cap, and Jensen thinks for a moment before he pulls his out and throws it into the red cap. 

“I’ll play, too,” Jensen says, hoping he doesn’t sound too eager. He’s a little too drunk to be able to tell if he manages it or not.

“Oh wait,” Chad says, looking like a dim light bulb went off in his head somewhere, and Jensen doesn’t like that look at all. “I remember you now,” Chad goes on, pointing at him. “Jesus Christ, you know, you guys could just use a room.”

Oh God. Oh God. Jensen wants to cover his face with his hands and he can’t bear to look at Jay, except he can’t help it and--

Jay’s grinning, seeming completely relaxed. “We just met, Chad. We might need another twenty seconds to get to know each other.”

“Fine.” Chad throws his hands in the air and rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” He starts to rise from the floor and loses his balance, his ass hitting the floor hard. Seemingly unperturbed, Chad rocks his weight forward and tries to rise again, making it to a standing position this time. Barely. He sways wildly on his feet and starts in the direction of the closet, momentum nearly toppling him. He catches hold of the closet door, catching himself and leaning against it heavily. He pauses there for an instant, and then steps back, yanking it open.

Everyone in the circle watching them, Jensen and Jay get to their feet, hesitating as they look at one another.

“Oh my god, would you two get in the fucking closet already?” Chad demands.

Jay moves first, and Jensen walks behind him, feeling his stomach twist a little with excitement. He thinks it’s excitement, at least. It could also be the six candy corn shooters he’d downed earlier.

The back wall of the closet is bare, lined with shelves on both sides, and it seems to be mostly empty except for a few boxes lining shelves to one side, their tops slanted like drunken soldiers trying to stand up straight. 

The second Jensen steps inside, the door slams shut with a boom so loud he jolts, startled.

“Oh shit,” Chad grunts from just outside the door. “I forgot.”

The handle to the closet door jiggles, and Jensen hears Chad say, very distinctly, “It’s stuck.”

It’s dark enough that Jensen has to feel around for the door. He grabs hold of the handle, trying to turn it on his side, fingers slipping on the knob, which remains stubbornly unmoved by his efforts.

“I forgot,” Chad yells through the door. “This door sticks if you shut it too hard.”

“Shit,” Jensen mutters under his breath.

Behind him, in the darkness, he can feel Jay move, warmth of his body close to Jensen’s.

“Don’t worry. He’ll get us out.”

“All right everybody, game off,” Chad yells from outside the door, his voice muffled. Jensen can hear a few distant groans of disappointment. Apparently he hadn’t been the only one hoping to get someone alone for seven minutes.

“Hey guys, I’ll be back,” Chad yells, voice clearer, and Jensen realizes he must be facing the door again. “Take this time to ‘get to know each other’.”

Even with a door between them, Jensen can hear the quotation marks around those words.

It’s on the tip of Jensen’s tongue to ask what Chad’s plan is, and then he realizes that being stuck in a closet with Jay isn’t necessarily the worst thing that could have happened to him. In fact, he probably couldn’t have planned it better.

A moment later the bumping and shuffling in the outer room fades, and a moment after that, the light outside the door goes off, followed by the banging slam of the door closing behind whomever had left last.

“Shit,” Jensen mutters again. “They’re so drunk they’re going to forget about us.”

“They might have already forgotten about us.” Jay sounds, sounding more amused than Jensen feels. 

Jensen reaches for his phone before remembering he’d thrown it into the baseball cap outside the door. “Fuck. And neither one of us has a phone.”

“Hang on,” Jay says.

In the dark, Jensen can hear him moving around, and then there’s the sound of a chain being pulled. A dim bulb in the ceiling jiggles reluctantly to life, flickering a few times before it settles in, uneasy.

“What is that? A ten watt bulb?” Jensen asks. “I can still hardly see.”

“Didn’t we come in here to be in the dark?” Jay asks, still seeming amused as he turns toward Jensen.

“Hmm. That’s a good point,” Jensen agrees, looking up and down Jay’s long frame. He didn’t really think they were just coming in the closet to stand around and talk--despite Jay’s assertion to Chad that they were still getting to know each other.

“At least it isn’t pitch black.” Jay shrugs with his huge Frankentein’s monster shoulders. “Although that has its advantages, too.”

“What advantages?” Jensen asks, tone suggestive.

Jay takes a step toward him, and his make-up looks even more amazing in the dim light of the closet. Jensen loves it, he really does, but he’s struck by a sudden desire to see Jay’s whole face.

“I could turn it back off and show you.” There’s a hopeful note in Jay’s voice, the offer made softly, as if ready for refusal.

“How about you leave it on and show me,” Jensen says, voice low and husky. They’ve both been drinking, and Jensen probably wouldn’t be this casual about flirting with a guy he’s only talked to for maybe twenty minutes total, but he knows he’d still make the same choice. He’d just be more nervous about it.

The light bulb buzzes angrily, light flickering from it uncertainly, and neither one of them gives it a glance, eyes locked on each other with searing heat.

Jay takes another step toward him, and Jensen can feel it again; that low hum of electricity through his veins like live wires, the silence in the closet almost palpable, filled with the hush of anticipation. Jensen takes a step forward and Jay meets him, their faces inches apart, eyes boring into each other. 

Jay leans in and Jensen rises up, just a little, scant millimeters between their lips, and Jensen can smell him, sweat and make-up and deeply male musk beneath light aftershave. Alcohol and want courses through his blood like tiny, warm bubbles in champagne. Thrill of anticipation all through him, setting his heart beating fast with disjointed rhythm, and then their mouths touch, lips meeting with slow, sticky heat. An explosion, like tiny fireworks in his belly, shock of raw, ragged want tearing through him, a sense of sudden rightness settling over him like comfort, like perfection, and they both draw back, eyes still fixed on each other as they stare at each other in amazement.

Some people have chemistry, that magical, mysterious element that sparks between them and makes fire hot enough to consume them. This… this is nothing as simple as chemistry. This is a cosmic occurrence. This is like standing at the molten core of the planet right after the Big Bang and looking at life for the very first time.

Jensen stares at Jay and wonders if this is what Howard Carter felt when he discovered Tutankhamun’s tomb, or when Galileo discovered the truth of gravity--finally uncovering a great secret long suspected and long searched for. Standing on the precipice of discovery in awe and wonder and satisfaction beyond compare.

And then he thinks, Jesus Christ, Jensen, it’s just a kiss, how fucking drunk are you?

And then they lunge at each other, mouths fusing together, their hands hot and everywhere, all over each other. Wild, crazy, devouring kiss, tongues twisting around each other, desperation and want, fingers curling into fists in Jay’s shirt, Jay’s hands in his hair, champagne bubbles in his blood boiling now, heart beating hot, head red all through, and he turns Jay, kissing him harder as he walks him backward, Jay’s back hitting the wall.

Jay groans into his mouth and Jensen devours the sound, taking advantage of the leverage, driving up into Jay’s mouth, body pressing into Jay’s, molding hot against him, feel of his musculature through his costume divine against Jensen's body. Jay’s arms are around him, trying to pull him closer even though there’s nothing but clothes between them--and Jensen is about to remove even that barrier, fingers sliding under the hem of Jay’s shirt.

One of their phones begins to ring in the outer room. Jensen recognizes it as his instantly, because it’s playing the Phantom of the Opera Theme by Andrew Lloyd Webber. 

Danny, he thinks, the thought penetrating through the lust-drenched haze of his brain, and he breaks the kiss, drawing back slightly.

“Nice choice,” Jay compliments his ring tone, out of breath. His black lipstick is smeared beyond repair, and Jensen thinks he probably looks about the same. He could give a damn. Besides, Jay looks fucking hot, his mouth all messy from their kisses, his eyes so glazed they’re nearly dazed with want.

“Danny’s probably looking for me,” Jensen says, just as out of breath as Jay. 

“It’s not like you can answer it anyway,” Jay says, which is… a really good point.

Jensen thinks about it for a moment and then shrugs. “This is what she’d want for me, anyway.”

Jensen surges upward, mouth crashing into Jay’s, and then he’s gone, swept away again.

Outside the closet, Jensen’s phone ceases to ring.

  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Jensen gets his hands around the angle of Jay’s jaw and tilts his face downward, kissing up into him hard, breath driven from his lungs with the sensation, the feel of Jay everywhere against him, and for a moment he’s literally breathless, lost in the moment of tongues tangling, hands caressing, heat and need, the unshakable sense of rightness coursing through him. It could be the alcohol, or it could simply  _ be _ , and right now Jensen doesn’t even think about picking it apart. 

Jay’s hands running through his hair, pulling him closer, kissing deeper, and Jensen nips at Jay’s lower lip, catching it between his teeth and tugging before he dives back in, Jay’s groan of pleasure reverberating inside him his mouth, and he feels the vibration all the way to his stomach, sweet, hot butterflies that flutter like the beating of his heart. God the way he smells, the way he feels, hot and vibrant, so alive in Jensen’s arms, kissing Jensen back with the same desperate need Jensen feels all the way to his bones.

Jensen loves kissing; the intimacy of it even beyond sex. Sex can be so many different things. It can be simple desire or the greatest expression of love. It can be animal attraction or the culmination of sorrow or even anger. It can be beautiful or it can be ugly or a million shades in between. Sex is complicated. 

But kissing… 

Kissing is like this: head swimming through sweet fire, blood rushing in his veins, heart floating in his chest, sugar spun balloon straight to his brain, warm and full, excitement on the edge of bursting. Kissing is like warm sunshine through the kitchen window in a new, strange house that you’re falling in love with. It’s the heart-stopping moment of jumping from a cliff, not knowing if you’ll fly or if you’ll fall.

And then it’s both. It’s freefall. Flying and falling all at once, never knowing if you’ll hit the ground and not caring.

Sex can be vacant, empty. Kissing never is. 

Although he’s fairly sure he’s never been kissed before like this in his entire life.

Jay pulls back from the kiss with an effort, hands running down Jensen’s spine, eyes dark in the dim light, breath hot against Jensen’s lips as he speaks. “You kiss like…”

Jensen feels dazed, elated as he stares into Jay’s eyes. “Like what?”

“Like I always wished someone would kiss me,” Jay answers.

“Same,” Jensen says, without even thinking. “God. I could kiss you for hours.”

“I was kinda hoping we could do more than that,” Jay says, his voice a rush of hot breath against Jensen’s mouth.

Jensen considers the mostly still functioning part of his brain against this gorgeous man whose face he still can’t entirely see, his black lipstick eaten away by Jensen’s kisses, rosy skin peeking through the gray make-up around his mouth and along the lines of his jaw, the angles of his cheekbones. So pretty. So goddamned pretty, lips deep pink from kissing and eyes wanting. 

And Jensen doesn’t want to say anything, just wants to kiss him into oblivion. A few minutes ago he was about to do way more than that. But then reality kicked in when Danny called and he remembered other people actually exist. “Chad said he was coming back for us.”

Jay laughs, and it’s an extremely cute, very amused chuckle. “Yeah.” Jay nods. “He's probably also doing a keg stand right now.”

Jensen tilts his head, trying to take in this information. “You mean you don’t think he’s coming back?”

“Not even a little bit,” Jay confirms. “Even if he wasn’t drunk as fuck, he…”

“What?”

“Like your friend. Chad would want this for me,” Jay admits. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he did this on purpose, to be totally honest.”

Jensen blinks a few times. “So your best friend locked us in a closet together? Hoping we’d make out?”

“Well…” Jay says with a tilt of his head. “Probably hoping for more than that.”

Jensen remembers the odd look Chad had given him earlier before he’d asked if Jensen was trying to bang Jay. Jensen had thought… well he isn’t sure what he’d thought, honestly. That Chad was being protective, maybe? But suddenly it’s all starting to make sense.

If that’s what’s actually happening here, Jensen feels very much on board with that.

Jensen takes a step closer to Jay. “So your best friend ‘accidentally’ locked us in a closet, hoping we’d do more than make out?”

“I’m hoping for more than that, too,” Jay breathes like a confession.

“Are you?” Jensen asks, arching a brow at Jay and taking another step closer to him. He leans in and brushes his lips against Jay’s, eyes flicking up to meet Jay’s staring back at him. 

The closet is warm with the heat coming off both of them, still air nearly crackling with electricity, and Jensen’s never felt it like this before, never felt the magnetic pull of someone like he’s read about in books, the irresistible, undeniable, sheer attraction that exists in the scant inches between them.

“How much more?” Jensen asks in a rough whisper.

“All of it,” Jay whispers back, winding his arms around Jensen’s neck, his eyes never leaving Jensen’s. “Everything.”

Jensen considers for an instant and then reaches up, tips of his fingers touching the edge of Jay’s mask. “I’d like to see your face.”

“Masks don’t come off until two,” Jay replies, smirk playing about his lips.

“Oooh,” Jensen breathes, moving in tight against Jay, pulling him closer and pressing their hips together. “Someone’s kinky.”

Jay’s smirk just deepens, playful glint in his dark eyes. 

“Masks on, then,” Jensen murmurs, mouth closing over Jay’s.

Hot, wet, deep kisses, Jay moaning into his mouth with a sound that hits him deep in his gut, cock twitching in his pants. Mouths messy, tongues clever, hands everywhere, trying to touch and feel everything, bubbles in his blood boiling over in his brain, everything heat and want and desperate need, zero to sixty to one-twenty like they’d never stopped kissing at all.

His hands caught in Jay’s hair, pulling him in deeper, Jay surging against him, breathing out hard through his nose, cock hard against Jensen’s thigh, and Jensen moves his leg between Jay’s, leaning a little bit of weight into it, feels Jay moan at the delicious pressure, and it’s the sweetest sound, Jay’s tongue melting against his like cotton candy.

Sex can be empty, but sometimes it can be fucking incandescent, and something tells Jensen this is going to be one of those times.

Jensen’s tongue slips from Jay’s mouth, tracing a line across his jaw and then down the path of his pulse, heart beating fast and hard against the thin skin, and Jensen reaches up, pushes Jay’s chin up and back, exposing more of his throat for Jensen to bite and kiss, down to the hollow where his teeth scrape lightly over the round of Jay’s collar bone. The sound Jay makes is utter satisfaction and a plea for more all at once.

Jensen isn’t going to be able to get him out of his costume completely, and he probably shouldn’t, given that the door can technically open at any time. But goddamn, he wants to, wants to see the tight musculature he can feel through Jay’s costume in the very naked flesh. He settles for running his hands over it instead, palms smoothing down the narrowing sides of Jay’s waist, and then he drops to his knees. 

Jay’s head falls back, hitting the wall with hard thunk, Jensen’s name escaping his lips like a fervent prayer. He’s trembling as Jensen undoes the cinch on the string belt holding his pants in place, rolling the cloth waistline down along with Jay’s boxer briefs, huge cock springing free and bobbing against the air, right in front of Jensen’s eyeline. Hard and thick, tiniest pearl of precome clinging to the tip, and he looks delectable, delicious. Jensen can hardly stop himself from tasting him then and there, mouth literally watering.

He gets Jay out of his clunky shoes and strips his bottom half naked, taking a moment to rake his eyes over what seems like miles of bare skin. He’s gorgeous; slim, dense musculature that’s more cardio than weights, with what looks like a tattoo on one hip. Jensen can’t make it out in the faint light, the details lost to shadow, so he sets his hand against it instead, other hand closing around the base of Jay’s cock as he dips his head to finally take a taste.

Jay jolts with the sensation of Jensen’s mouth on him, the sound that escapes him making Jensen’s own cock throb with urgent need. But he takes his time, sliding slow up and down the length, working the fist of his hand counterpoint to the rhythm of his mouth, tongue curling up the vein along the underside. Jay’s hands slip, trying to grab at Jensen’s hair, unable to get a grip, and he finally curls them into fists at his sides, his whole body straining with motion of Jensen sucking his cock.

Jensen looks up, wanting to see Jay’s face.

“Fuck…” Jay gasps, shivering. “You… those eyes… that mask… ungh… sucking me…”

Jensen smiles around the thick width of Jay’s cock and slides quick down the shaft, lips meeting the edge of his hand, and whatever else Jay had been about to say is lost in a trail of unintelligible sounds.

Jensen savors every moment until Jay lets out a muffled shout, reaching for Jensen’s head again, and Jensen pulls back, pulls off, knowing what it means. Much as he wants to make Jay come, he doesn’t want to get there too soon.

Jay’s cock twitches against the open air, hissing breath sucked into jay’s lungs as his fists open and clench, repeatedly, trying to get himself under control.

Jensen doesn’t plan on giving him that chance.

He rises to his feet, grabs Jay by the hips and kisses him, lingering only a moment before he pulls away, grinning, and spins Jay around.

He pushes Jay firmly against the wall, letting one hand rest against the center of Jay’s back for a moment, knees nudging Jay’s legs apart. “Don’t move,” Jensen whispers, voice guttural.

He drops to his knees again, hands gripping the firm roundness of Jay’s ass and spreading him apart. His tight, pink hole looks just as delicious as the rest of him, and Jensen runs his tongue up the center of him, thrill rushing through him at the mangled sound Jay makes.

Jensen teases him for a minute, circling and wriggling just the tip inside, easing into it, and then he pushes with a slow thrust, breaching Jay completely. Jay is sweating, skin slick under Jensen’s hands, thighs shaking, and Jensen wants to take him apart slowly, relish every whimper and moan, every twitch and shiver, commit it all to perfect memory. Part of him wants to, but the rest of him wants to be inside Jay right now.

He has a moment to marvel that he’s here, tongue buried inside Jay as deep as it can go. That he’s here like this with this funny, smart, horror geek of a hunk that he’s only known for less than an hour, gut churning with excitement and anticipation of what’s to come, hardly able to keep himself from getting to his feet and pushing inside Jay right this very second. It’s crazy, and it’s awesome, and he’s loving every second of it.

He’s about to fuck the better looking OG Frankenstein’s monster within an inch of both their lives, and still, there’s Jared, hanging like a ghost on invisible wires in the attic of Jensen’s brain.

He pushes the thought aside, curling his tongue in a clever ‘s’ motion that practically brings Jay crashing to his knees, driving his chin up into Jay body and pulling him in tight, rimming him until Jay’s knees are weak and his whole body is sagging against the wall, Jensen holding most of his weight. Hole fucked open and loose, dripping wet with saliva, and Jensen draws back, sparing a smile for his work before he smacks one palm lightly against Jay’s ass.

Jay jolts, moaning, and Jensen makes note of it for future reference. Masks, spanking… he wasn’t wrong when he called Jay kinky. That’s okay. That’s perfect, actually. Jensen’s pretty kinky, himself.

He has a condom in his wallet, which is tucked into the pocket of his pants, and he wastes no time getting it out, open and on, licking his palm with generous amounts of saliva before he strokes down the shaft, slicking it.

He presses his chest against Jay’s back, hips lining up as he positions himself, tip of his dick slipping against Jay’s wet, open hole. His lips meet the back of Jay’s neck and then he draws back, turning Jay’s face to the side, craning his neck and kissing Jay the best he can from this angle, crown of his cock teasing at the entrance.

“Yeah,” Jay groans into Jensen’s mouth, and his voice is wrecked with want. “Come on, fuck me.”

“You didn’t say please,” Jensen chastises him, teeth nipping at Jay’s lower lip.

Jay’s answering moan sends a deep thrill rushing through Jensen’s stomach straight to his dick.

“Please,” Jay breathes, lips shivering with the word.

Jensen rises up on the balls of his feet and pushes inside Jay, slow, inch by inch until he’s buried and they’re both quivering, Jensen clutching hard at Jay’s hips, nails digging into skin, and then Jensen curls his hips under, thrusts inside just a little more.

Crushing, searing heat around his cock, body molded against Jay’s, faces turning to catch kisses like sparks, and Jensen hisses in a breath as he pulls his hips back, just to the edge before he drives upward from the balls of his feet, filling Jay in the space of a second. It pushes the air out of both of them, clinging and shaking, and then Jensen pulls back again, twisting his hips wickedly as he thrusts deep.

Twisting thrusts, holding Jay’s hips pinned against the wall, Jay open wide for him, spine arching to take Jensen even deeper, skin skidding with sweat, wet smear of kisses, Jensen picking up rhythm, fucking into Jay harder and faster, until his hips are pistoning in and out, one hand closed on Jay’s neck, other gripping his hip with white knuckles. Jay’s face shoved against the wall, eyes half-lidded and glazed, mouth pink, hanging open, lip dragging against the wall as Jensen fucks into him.

He’s so beautiful, lower face smeared with ruined make-up and it can’t do a thing to dim how gorgeous he is in this low light, so full of want, bright and alive and burning up with need. Jensen thinks maybe he loves him a little bit right now, and fuck, who wouldn’t, the way he looks?

He’s getting close, heat deep in his belly, pleasure rising into a spiral, and he lets his hand slip from Jay’s hip, closing around the sticky, hot shaft of his cock. His hand is too dry to be delicate, and he lets it add to the friction, trying hard to keep the rhythm of his strokes in time with his hips. 

Jay’s head snaps back, hitting Jensen’s shoulder hard, and Jensen answers with a swift thrust of his hips like a strike, fist squeezing the crown of Jay’s cock. Jay’s teeth snap together, biting off a half uttered curse, and then his whole body clenches down like a fist around Jensen. Quaking and fluttering, hips stuttering and shaking as he spills over Jensen’s hand, wetness slicking the way for Jensen’s fist.

Jensen bites down hard against the muscle of Jay’s shoulder as he comes, hot, velvet crush of Jay’s ass undoing him completely, tiny earthquakes all through him, every muscle and nerve coiling and then releasing. He grays out, consumed, hips bucking with pure instinct as he rides it out, shuddering and twitching, filling Jay deep and holding as another wave hits him, teeth clenched and barely holding on to reality. 

The pleasure begins to ebb, cock spurting weakly, and his eyes flutter open again, his teeth locked on the back of Jay’s neck, Jay shaking and nearly limp against the wall. Jensen releases his hold, pressing a kiss to the red spot his teeth leave behind, thrusting with his hips, a few short strokes before his cock is spent.

He rests there for a moment against Jay’s back, both of them breathing hard and sweating out, hearts beating counterpoint rhythm inside the cages of their chests, and then he reaches down, fingers closing around the base of his cock to hold the condom in place as he pulls out.

Jay shudders as Jensen leaves him, and Jensen removes the condom carefully, tying a knot in it and glancing around before he remembers they’re in a closet and there’s absolutely nowhere he can dispose of it properly. There’s a box on one of the shelves with a few plastic grocery bags in it, and Jensen pulls one out, depositing the condom in it and tying a knot in that, too. He sets it on the shelf and hopes like hell he’ll remember to take it with him when he finally gets out of here, or Chad’s going to find a nasty surprise in here one day.

Jay is beginning to turn around now, and Jensen dips down, scooping Jay’s pants from the floor for him and putting them in his hands. Jay takes them with one hand and then reaches out, other hand catching Jensen behind the neck and pulling him in for a kiss. Slow, now, their desperation sated, and Jensen would have thought their passion would be spent, too, but it isn’t; kiss deep and sweet, more tender now, but still just as intense.

When they finally break apart, it’s with amazed eyes that can’t look at anything but each other.

“This is not how it went the first time Dracula and Frankenstein met in the movies,” Jay says with a disbelieving, wide-eyed shake of his head. 

“Not onscreen,” Jensen agrees, letting his head loll to the side a little as he looks at Jay. “But did you see the movie poster?”

“Oh my God, yes!” Jay laughs. “They looked like they were angry dancing, right?”

“Like the cover of a book about monsters hate-banging,” Jensen agrees, laughing too. He trails off, shaking his head slightly. “Man… I shoulda known I was gay, then.”

“Well I’m glad you figured it out,” Jay says with a slow smile, fingertips skimming the side of Jensen’s neck before they come to rest against his jaw.

“That was… that was incredible,” Jensen says, huffing out a breath in disbelief.

“You’re telling me?” Jay says, chuckling. “I can’t wait to show you my skills later.”

Jensen likes the sound of that a lot. “There’d better be a later. Because I’m really not a one explosive night in a closet kind of dude.” 

“Oh, there’s definitely going to be a later,” Jay promises, with an almost reverent nod of his head. 

Jensen takes a moment then to realize everything that’s happened to him today to land him here and now. It’s been an odd day, to say the least.

“It’s weird.” Jensen shakes his head. “I met someone earlier tonight when I was trick-or-treating--well, I wasn’t trick-or-treating, but I took this kid trick-or-treating, and I met this guy, and I was really interested in him. And then I came here and met  _ you _ . And normally I’m not interested in most guys. So it was weird, because yeah, two in one night?”

Jay’s just looking at him, and Jensen realizes he probably shouldn’t have said any of that.

“I’m sorry, talking about some other guy I met earlier is so not cool. Especially after… I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” Jensen’s teeth toy at his lower lip. “I really like you a lot.”

It sounds like a flimsy follow up, even to Jensen’s ears, but he really  _ does _ like Jay. 

Jay seems to have ignored most of what Jensen just said, and his eyes have narrowed on Jensen, brows drawing together as he scrutinizes Jensen’s face. “Take off your mask,” Jay says, voice soft, almost curious.

It seems like an abrupt change in subject, and it takes Jensen a moment to shift.

“Is it two o’clock yet?” Jensen asks, trying for playful.

“Please?” Jay asks.

Jensen feels a little bit like a character in a Scooby-Doo cartoon, and also, strangely, a little nervous. What if it’s different when they can see each other’s faces? The alcohol and the anonymity of the masks had definitely given Jensen a boost in confidence. He’s said and definitely  _ done _ things tonight he probably normally wouldn’t. 

But he just had incredible, mind-blowing sex with this guy, and he really likes him a lot, and really, he doesn’t have much choice unless he wants things to get weird, because they’re still stuck in this closet for the foreseeable future.

Jensen’s fingers tremble only slightly as he reaches back, undoing the ribbons holding his mask in place, and pulls it from his face.

Jay’s eyes go wide with disbelief, hand rising to his mouth.

“Oh my God,” Jay whispers, like he can’t fucking believe it. “Holy shit.  _ You’re _ the hotass trick-or-treat guy?”

Jensen’s brows draw together in a frown of confusion, and then he  _ really _ feels like he’s in a Scooby-Doo cartoon as Jay reaches up with both hands, one tugging away his mask, the other pulling off the tall headpiece.

Jay’s hair falls from under the prosthetic, long and slightly wavy, dark and curling at the base of neck, and his face is finally fully revealed to Jensen, in full shape and contour.

Jensen’s lashes flutter with a machine gun fire of blinks, trying to fully put together what he’s seeing.

“Oh my God. You’re…” His mouth is suddenly very dry, his heart inexplicably beating sideways inside his chest. “You’re  _ Jared _ .”

They’re both standing there, not two feet apart, their hands over their mouths, their eyes wide as they stare at each other.

“I…” Jared pulls his hand from his mouth and shakes his head, letting out a bewildered chuckle. “I can’t believe it. The guy I couldn’t get out of my head all night… and here it was you the whole time?”

Can this even be real life? It’s  _ Jared _ ? He just had sex with Jared? The kind, stupidly hot goth guy Jensen wanted to ask out earlier? And Jared is interested in him, too?

“I couldn’t get you out of my head, either,” Jensen admits, still too much in awe to be very coherent. “I was… I was going to come by your house tomorrow and ask you out. But then, there was this party, and there was  _ you _ , and I really liked you. But I also liked earlier you, and I was a little conflicted because I thought you were two different people. But then... you’re  _ both _ you.”

Jensen pauses, reflecting on what he’s just said, and then frowns before he laughs. “I’m sorry. Did that make any kind of sense?”

“Perfect sense.” Jared nods, his eyes locked on Jensen’s. 

Jensen holds Jared’s gaze, filled with wonder and disbelief for a moment longer, and then a thought strikes him.

“You were calling me ‘hotass trick-or-treat guy’?”

Jay grins, lifting his wide shoulders in a light shrug. “You never told me your name.”

Jensen shakes his head in amazement. His day has gone beyond odd; he’s deep into the territory of extremely unlikely now, but yet, here he is. With the guy he’d wanted to be with all along.

“I still can’t fucking believe it.” He laughs.

“I know, right?” Jared agrees, laughing, too, and goddamn he lights up like the most beautiful fucking Christmas tree Jensen’s ever seen when he laughs.

“Okay,” Jensen says, still thinking. “I never told you  _ my _ name… but why has everyone been calling you Jay all night? Because if even one of them had called you Jared I would have known in a heartbeat it was you.”

“It’s a nickname,” Jay says, and then his gaze shifts back to laser focus on Jensen. “But would it have changed anything, if you’d known?”

Jensen thinks about that for a minute. “Probably.” He nods, finding himself in agreement with the statement. “I probably would have been way too scared to do any of this.”

“You?” Jared scoffs. “Mister ‘I came from Transylvania’ and ‘You didn’t say please’?”

Jensen has to chuckle, because it’s true. “The alcohol and the masks helped a lot.” He pauses, considering, weighing whether or not he should say what he does next. “You know. I wanted to come ask you out tomorrow, but I probably would have chickened out. Because what if you answered the door and were like: is this guy a fucking stalker? I met him for five minutes last night.”

“I would have been so excited,” Jared assures him, eyes warm. “I couldn’t believe the way you slipped through my fingers like that earlier.” Jared regards him in silence for a moment, and then looks at Jensen in all seriousness. “But the part where you said ‘You didn’t say please’, that wasn’t just the alcohol and masks was it?”

Jensen ducks his head, feeling his cheeks heat slightly. “No. That’s kind of just me. But I’m not usually that comfortable right away.”

“You are so cute when you’re being shy,” Jared marvels. “We just had sex hot enough to burn this whole house down and you’re practically blushing. It’s adorable.”

Jensen shrugs, smile curving his lips. “I’m a dichotomy.”

Jared just looks at him for a moment, and then he shakes his head, pulls Jensen in close and kisses him hard. “Say that again,” he whispers when he draws back.

“Dichotomy?” Jensen asks, uncertain.

“Fuck. Yes,” Jared says, and exhales with what seems like long, sweet satisfaction. “I love big, complicated words. They’re sexy as hell. When someone as sexy as you says them...” Jared spreads his fingers wide, mouth imitating an explosive sound effect.

“I love big words, too,” Jensen agrees. “Danny’s always giving me shit about using ‘five dollar words’.” He pauses, everything finally beginning to sink in. “We… we seem like we have a lot in common.”

“Are you kidding?” Jared demands. “We seem like we were made for each other.”

It seems like a big thing to say, the two of them standing in a closet, still not fully dressed after explosive sex that took place less than an hour of knowing each other. It  _ is _ a big thing to say, but be damned if Jensen can deny it.

“It does, doesn’t it?” Jensen asks with conviction and surprise. “You know… I don’t usually have sex with a guy this soon after knowing him.”

“Me neither,” Jared agrees and then laughs. “I said that way too quick, didn’t I? It sounds like bullshit, doesn’t it? Both of us saying that right after doing it?”

“Yeah.” Jensen nods. “But I believe it.”   


“So do I,” Jared says, and gives him a smile so bright Jensen feels like he needs sunglasses.

“We should probably get to know each other more,” Jensen suggests.

“Well, it seems like we’ve got plenty of time.”

As if by some sort of unspoken agreement, they both begin to put themselves back together, Jensen pulling up his pants and Jared putting his on. Their make-up is a loss at this point, but they both make an effort to finger-comb their hair into some semblance of normality that doesn’t scream ‘we just fucked’ to the world at large.

A couple of minutes later, they're sitting side by side, pressed up against each other, backs leaning against the wall, heads tipping towards each other. 

Jensen already knows what he wants to say; it’s so easy, obvious and simple, and he feels so comfortable. He’s not the slightest bit self-conscious.

“So.” Jensen reaches out and takes Jared’s hand in his, fingers twining together. 

He turns his face, gives Jared a tiny smile, and says, “How do you feel about Wes Craven?”

*

They debate the age-old argument of Wes Craven vs. John Carpenter (they both agree Wes Craven was the winner), discuss Hitchcock and how Psycho changed the horror genre forever, talk about their love of the story of the Invisible Man as well of their love of the theater and art, and when Chad finally frees them from the closet after what turns out to be a total of about two hours, Jensen is honestly kind of sad. 

Danny high fives him and makes Jared join them in finishing off the rest of the candy corn shots, whose colors have begun to blend together a bit by that point. Of course, Jared never lets go of him the entire time, and they pay witness to some pretty amazing party spectacles, including a completely naked Chad doing his twelfth keg stand of the night. Jensen is as impressed by the guys who are holding up Chad’s naked body, his dick practically dangling in their faces, as he is by Chad’s tenacity and alcohol tolerance. 

There’s a person in a full on furry werewolf costume who randomly grabs people and humps their legs before doing a faceplant off the dining room table that leaves them in a decidedly less arduous mood. And then there’s the unmasking at 2am that ends with candy and glitter thrown everywhere and so much making out Jensen fears there might be an actual orgy. It leaves everyone sticky with champagne and covered in millions of tiny sparkles. Jensen would mourn for the fact that Chad is never going to have a glitter-free house ever again, except that Chad doesn’t seem to give a damn as he chugs down an entire bottle of champagne, his naked body coated in glitter and alcohol.

It’s well past 3am when Jensen leads Jared out a side door to the darkness of the yard, tree branches weaving together in the autumn breeze above them. Jensen takes a deep breath of the cool air and smiles. It’s perfect Halloween weather, and a pretty much perfect night.

He turns in the grass and pulls Jared close to him, kissing him long and deep.

They draw back from the kiss slowly, never letting go of each other, Jared’s features cast in sharp moonlight and shadow, and it’s mostly quiet here, party sounds distant enough to be ignored. 

“So now what?” Jared asks, voice low, arms wrapped around Jensen’s shoulders.

“We could go back to your place,” Jensen suggests, pulling Jared in even tighter. “You could show me some of those skills.”

“Mmm,” Jared hums in agreement. “I think your place is closer, though.”

“My place isn’t nearly as awesome as yours.”

“I knew it,” Jared says with a grin. “You’re a Victorian architecture groupie.”

“I really am.” Jensen agrees with a shameless nod.

Jared chuckles and then leans in, kissing Jensen briefly on the lips. “I love Victorian architecture groupies.”

“This has been the best night,” Jensen says, sighing happily.

“My favorite holiday and my favorite person I’ve ever met.” Jared says the words like he’s considering them, and then nods. “Yep. Best night ever.”

Jensen thinks of kissing, of falling and flying all at once, and he's not even kissing Jared right now, but he feels it all the same. Kissing is never empty, and neither is this--he doesn't think it could ever be.

“Do you…” Jensen hesitates. “Do you think things will be different in the morning. I mean, with us?” And what he’s really asking is if Jared thinks he might feel differently, because Jensen’s one-hundred percent sure about what he’s feeling.

“Nope,” Jared answers without hesitation. “Not even a little bit.” He kisses Jensen again, then, warm press of his glorious lips, and then pulls away, stepping back.

He reaches out, extending his hand towards Jensen. “But I think we should go find out.”

Jensen smiles and takes his hand.

  
  
  
  


FINIS

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE! 🎃🧛👻🦇  
> LOVE YOU GUYS! 💖💖💖


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